Sweet Burn (Sweet Love Book 1)

by Winter Travers

  “You sure? Maybe we should bring it with us.” She giggled and I watched.

  Damn, Brynn was beautiful. Her long, brunette hair flowed around her shoulders as her blue eyes lit up. I wasn’t going to be able to keep my hands off of her.

  My hand rested on her hip, and I pulled her close to me. She rested her hand on my chest, and her laughter died. “Abe,” she breathed out.

  “You looked so beautiful, sweetheart, I needed to see it up close.”

  Pink climbed her cheeks, and she ducked her head into my shoulder.

  My hand slid around her waist, and pulled her close. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

  She looked up at me. “I’m not embarrassed, it’s just no one has ever said anything like that to me.”

  That was going to change as long as I was around.

  *

  Brynn

  This had never happened before.

  The man barely knew me, and I was in his arms while he told me how beautiful I was.

  All of my past relationships were blah and mediocre. I wasn’t even in a relationship with Abe, and he was already treating me better.

  “You really wanna go out tonight?”

  I blinked slowly. Maybe I was reading this whole thing wrong. “Uh, I guess if you don’t want to go out—”

  He shook his head. “Brynn, I still want to go on a date with you, I just mean do we have to leave, or can we just stay here?”

  Oh. That was good. “Um, I could cook?”

  “Only if you want, or we could order something in.”

  I smiled. “I did hear that was your specialty, but I think I can wrangle something up for us. We just might have to run to the store around the corner for a few things.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “Just let me take a peek in the fridge, make a list, and then we can go, yeah?”

  He nodded his head. “Sounds like a good plan, sweetheart.”

  I rummaged through the fridge knowing I had most everything I needed to make spaghetti. All we were going to have to pick up was hamburger, Italian sausage, and garlic. And wine. Lots of wine. I was two seconds away from freaking out about Abe being in my kitchen.

  He was hovering by the bundt cake, watching me.

  “Um, we just need a couple of things. Plus I can grab a loaf of bread from the bakery.”

  “You even make bread? Holy hell, woman.”

  I shrugged. “Um, yeah?”

  “Incredible,” he muttered.

  It really wasn’t. Compared to the bakeries I had worked at in the past, I didn’t make much. I was a one woman bakery with Karen manning the front.

  We made a quick dash to the store with Abe insisting on paying for everything. He carried the bags on the way back, and even held my hand.

  I felt like a blushing school girl when his fingers had intertwined with mine. He led me up the stairs, unpacked the bags, and sat at the kitchen table while I cooked.

  “You really don’t know how to cook?” I leaned against the stove next to the counter, and picked up my wine glass.

  “It’s not for a lack of trying.” He leaned back in his chair. “Growing up my meals were always cooked for me, and by the time I moved out, I tried to cook, but I’m just not meant to do more than use a microwave and toaster.”

  “How did you live till your twenties with someone always making your meals for you?” I wished I had that. By the time I was thirteen I had discovered that I was a better cook than my mom, and we both agreed that I would cook.

  “Uh, well, we had a cook.”

  I smiled. “So did we. It was me.” I wiggled my eyebrows. I stirred the sauce in the pan. Abe was quiet, and I wasn’t sure what had just happened. “So, what kind of food do you survive on now?”

  Abe cleared his throat. “Can we go back to me telling you we had a cook growing up?”

  I shrugged. “If you want to. Although, I must say it’s pretty damn cool.”

  “I’ve never told anyone that. At least not since I moved to Mark’s Corners over ten years ago.”

  “I guess I should feel honored then,” I laughed nervously.

  “I wanna tell you everything, sweetheart.”

  “Maybe we should save everything for the second date?” I was just getting used to the man being in my kitchen. Perhaps we could save the soul bearing talk for another time.

  He chuckled. “I don’t have hideous secrets. I’ve just never told anyone about the real me. I tend to stick to the surface details.”

  “Well, I guess that’s reassuring.” I cleared my throat unsure of what to say next. I drained the last of my wine, and set the glass down. “Did you want more?”

  Abe stood up and grabbed the bottle from the table. “I got you.” He filled my glass to the top, and topping off his own. He leaned against the counter, and grabbed my hand. “Did I scare you away?”

  “I’d be lying if I said I was fine, but I’m not scared away. Just a bit taken back.” No one had ever wanted to tell me everything. Didn’t everyone have secrets? Whether they were small or big, we all had them.

  He pulled me over, and positioned me in front of him, standing between his legs. “Good. I didn’t want to have to leave before we had dinner.”

  “Or cake,” I added.

  He nodded. “Definitely not before cake.”

  “What are we doing, Abe?”

  He rested his hands on my waist. “Getting to know each other. Finding out if we want to spend more time together.”

  “Uh, so what’s the consensus so far?” I knew where my head was, but I had to wonder what he was thinking. Was this one night? A couple of nights?

  “I like you. I knew I liked you the other day in the bakery.”

  “Pretty sure I spoke maybe ten words, and most of them didn’t make sense.” I cringed just thinking about it.

  “You were damn adorable.”

  “That’s exactly what every grown woman wants to hear. Adorable.” I stuck my tongue out.

  “Now, now, sweetheart. I also thought your ass looked amazing when you turned around.”

  I slugged him on the shoulder. “You’re such a man.”

  “Pretty sure that’s one of the main things you like about me.”

  The water boiled over on the pasta, and I pulled away from Abe. “You may be on to something.” Being a man was on the list of things I liked about Abe. I mean, if he were a girl, I wouldn’t be cooking him spaghetti in my apartment right now. I tested the noodles, and dumped them into the colander. “You ready to eat?” I pulled the garlic bread out of the oven, and slid it onto a plate.

  “I’m starving.”

  He helped set the table, and I laid the sauce, noodles, and bread in the center of the table.

  “You forgot the cake.”

  I rolled my eyes, and grabbed the cake. “You’re making me think you are here only for the cake.”

  We sat down, and filled our plates.

  “Gotta tell you. You make the best cake I’ve ever had in my life. So, yeah, knowing you made a cake is fucking amazing. Add on the fact I don’t need to share it with any of those fuckers at the fire station makes it even more amazing.”

  I twirled some noodles around my fork. “How long exactly have you been buying out the case in the bakery?”

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin, and took a sip of wine. “Um, for about a year.”

  Holy crap. He had been coming to the bakery, my bakery, every other week for a year, and I had no idea. “Seriously?” I really needed to get out of the back.

  “Yeah, and for that whole year Karen and Anderson have been dancing around each other. It was about time he got off the pot and asked her out.”

  “So he’s a good guy?”

  “One of the best I know.”

  That was reassuring to know. Karen was on a date with him right now, so hopefully she wouldn’t be calling me later crying about what a dick he was.

  “How did you get into making amazing cakes?”

&nb
sp; Hmm, I guess it was question time. I took a bite. “Well, I’ve been cooking and baking since I was ten, and by the time I turned thirteen, I was doing all of the cooking. It was only natural that my first job was a dishwasher at the local diner.”

  “Ren’s on fifth?”

  I nodded. “Yup. Ren’s mom was the one who took me under her wing, and taught me all her baking secrets.”

  “I’ll have to stop in and thank her, although I have to think you’re just a natural when it comes to the kitchen. This spaghetti rivals Mario’s.”

  I blushed under his praise. “I think you might want to slow down on the wine.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I just know good food when I eat it, sweetheart.”

  “Now it’s your turn to tell me how you became a firefighter.” Time to turn the tables on him. “How does a man with a personal chef become a public servant?”

  “Now you’re just making it sound a bit dramatic. I wasn’t the crowned prince of a country or anything.”

  We ate in silence for a bit while he gathered his thoughts.

  I finished most of my food, and pushed back the plate. “I’m waiting for my story, Abe. No cake until you spill.”

  “I thought you weren’t ready for everything?”

  I shrugged, and swirled the wine in my glass. “We’ll call it getting to know each other.”

  “It’s not some grand story, sweetheart. I wanted a job where I felt needed.”

  “What did you do before?”

  “I worked for my father.”

  Hmm, now we were getting somewhere, but it was like pulling teeth. “So, what does your father do?”

  “He owned a few businesses, and I managed one for him. He passed away, and my mother and I decided it was best to sell them off.”

  “I’m sorry, Abe.” That took a turn I wasn’t expecting.

  He shrugged. “My father was a hard man to work with. While he provided a good life for me growing up, he expected things from my mother and I that were hard to fulfill.”

  “You mom lives here?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “She lives in California in the house I grew up in. I’ve tried to get her to move to Mark’s Corners, but she likes the warm weather and her friends are there.”

  “So how did you end up halfway across the country?” California was a good ways from Mark’s Corners.

  “I just moved around for a couple of years, trying to find out what I wanted to do with my life. Being a firefighter kind of fell in my lap, and I was good at it.”

  “What did you mean when you said you only show people what’s on the surface?”

  “No one knows about my father, what I did before I moved here. They don’t know I don’t need to work a day in my life if I didn’t want to.”

  Well hell. That was impressive. “But yet you still work.”

  “Living the spoiled rich kid life isn’t my style. While I’ve always had money, I always worked hard for it.”

  “So you live the life of a firefighter while sitting on stacks of money at night.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “Not exactly, sweetheart, but that is funny to picture.”

  “You look like Uncle Scrooge in my head. Diving into your piles of money.”

  He shook his head, and pushed back his plate. “Now there's a picture. Perhaps you’ll need to come over, and see if that’s true.”

  “Maybe.” I grabbed our plates, and dumped them in the sink. “I need to make the caramel drizzle for the cake. Did you want to find something to watch?”

  “I planned on watching you make that caramel, but I guess I can try to find a movie.”

  I pointed to the entertainment center. “You should be able to find something in there. Although, I will say that the majority of them are chick flicks.”

  Abe grimaced. “You trying to put me to sleep?”

  I grabbed a saucepan from the cupboard and shook my head. “I’ll just cut you a big slice of cake to get you all sugared up.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  Twenty minutes later after Abe moaned and groaned over all of the movies, he finally settled on watching Overboard.

  “I have to say I’m surprised you settled on a classic.” I had all of the Fast and Furious movies, and figured he would have picked one of those. While they weren’t chick flicks, they had an over abundance of eye candy which automatically made them chick movies.

  I handed him the huge slice of cake drenched in caramel. “Damn, sweetheart. Did you save any for yourself?” I did a bit more than a drizzle on his piece.

  It was a pretty big slice. Abe had a quarter of the bundt sitting on his plate, and I had a piece a quarter of his size. “If I ate that much cake you would have to roll me through the door.”

  He sat back on the couch, kicked up his feet on the coffee table, and forked a huge bit into his mouth. “I’m not a religious man, sweetheart, but this cake has got me wanting to pray to God that you make me cake for the rest of my life.”

  “You’re crazy, Abe.”

  The movie started playing, and I sat next to him on the couch. He was much to into his cake to notice anything but his fork. Somehow he managed to eat his huge piece of cake before I finished mine, and he set his plate on the coffee table. He looked over at me and smiled. “You have a hell of a lot more control than I do.”

  “I’m surrounded by it daily. It’s a miracle I can look at a cake anymore without hating it.” I set my plate down and tried to watch the movie. I could tell Abe was staring at me out of the corner of my eye. “Um, is something wrong?”

  “Yeah.”

  Uh oh. “And that is?”

  “You’re way too far away from me.”

  I looked down at the two feet between us. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really, sweetheart.” He pulled me to him, laid down with his back to the couch, and left me no choice but to lay down next to him. “Much better,” he rumbled.

  My head was resting on his outstretched arm, and I was laying on my side facing the TV. “What just happened?”

  He stuffed a pillow under his head and draped an arm across my middle. “We got comfortable.”

  I didn’t know what to do. I was stretched out on my couch with a gorgeous man who actually wanted to be there with me. “Abe, I don’t … is this…”

  “Shush, Brynn. Watch the movie and try not to think too hard.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. He didn’t really give me much chance to do anything but that. After I counted to ten, I opened my eyes to watch Goldie Hawn fall overboard, and fell asleep in Abe’s arms.

  *

  Abe

  “Wake up, sweetheart.”

  She stirred in my arms, and turned to look up at me.

  It was half past eleven, and Brynn had passed out in my arms a half an hour into the movie.

  “Hey,” she rasped. “What time is it?”

  “Almost twelve.”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. “Gah, I have to be up in three hours.”

  Damn, that sucked. I worked around the clock when I was on shift, but I did tend to get decent sleep as long as there weren’t multiple calls in the middle of the night. “Let’s get you in bed so you don’t wake up with a kink in your neck.”

  She snuggled into me. “Good here.”

  “Babe, you should-.”

  She reached up and pressed a finger to my lips. “Shh. I need to sleep.” She relaxed into my arms, and was sleeping again in thirty seconds.

  Now that was impressive. Being a firefighter we had all learned to sleep when we could, but Brynn just put us all to shame.

  I grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, draped it over us, and managed to snag the remote she had tucked by her side.

  Who was I to argue with a sleeping woman?

  She slept, and I enjoyed the feel of her body next to mine.

  *

  Chapter 5

  Brynn

  “Wait a minute. He spent the night?” Karen
’s jaw dropped. “And he’s still up there?” She pointed to the ceiling above her.

  “Um, yeah.” At least I figured he was. I hadn’t heard anyone moving around upstairs, and he hadn’t walked out the door.

  “Damn, girl. Even I sent Blake home at one last night.” She packed up the last order of cookies for the day, and stacked the two boxes by the swinging door to the front. “So what are you going to do with him up there?”

  “You act like I’m keeping the man captive! I woke up at three, managed to free myself from his hold, and came down here to work. I wasn’t going to kick him out at that time of the morning.” I grabbed two sprinkled donuts and a cheese danish.

  “And just where do you think you’re going with those?” she nodded at the pastries in my hand.

  “I thought I would take breakfast up to him while I wait for the bread to rise.”

  Karen smirked. “Try not to get tangled up with him for too long.” The bell dinged up front. “You better come back with details, woman.” She pushed through the swinging doors, and shouted a greeting to the customer out front.

  I tossed my apron on the counter, and slowly climbed the stairs. I could have woken him up when I got up, but I liked him laying my couch. He looked like he belonged there.

  My head was in my own thoughts when I opened the door at the top of the stairs and came face to face with Abe shirtless in my kitchen.

  Holy hell.

  Not what I had expected to see when I opened the door, but I wasn’t going to complain.

  “Morning, sweetheart.”

  I choked on my words. “Mor … morning.”

  “I helped myself to a shower. I hope that’s okay? You know that kink I warned you about last night? Well, I woke up with one instead.”

  My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth, and all I could do was stare at his chiseled chest. It was like the man was made out of marble with his perfectly defined abs and all the other delicious small valleys and hills of his ripped body. My eyes traveled lower, and I lost all brain function.

  The perfect ‘v’ into his jeans where the top button was undone did me in.